


The Fate Conundrum

by anglophileadventures



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anglophileadventures/pseuds/anglophileadventures
Summary: The facts are these:1. The first name of your soulmate appears on your wrist when you turn twenty-five.2. There has been no known person to not have a soulmate or a soul mark, so long as they reach the age of twenty-five.3. Despite this, only very few people actually find their soulmate, and even finding them does not guarantee a happily-ever-after....Newt’s life was going to end in seven days.
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74
Collections: Maze Runner Secret Santa 2020





	The Fate Conundrum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isthisenoughorcanwegohigher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isthisenoughorcanwegohigher/gifts).



> My giftee wished for a soulmate au, so this is my take on that!
> 
> Big thank you to Dreams and Bridge for organizing the tmr secret santa for the third year in a row! You two are awesome!
> 
> Another thank you to my beta reader (you know who you are). This fic is so much better because of your help and advice!
> 
> And finally, please be aware that this fic has some minor warnings for things like internalized homophobia and struggling with mental illness. There are some places where Newt will think or say some pretty terrible things about himself, and I want to make it clear that those are not my actual opinions, that's just how Newt perceives himself at that moment in time. Most of the internalized homophobia comes in the 'twelve years ago' flashback so be aware when you get to that section, but there's also some vague mental illness talk in the 'six months ago' flashback.

_The facts are these:_

_1\. The first name of your soulmate appears on your wrist when you turn twenty-five.  
2\. There has been no known person to not have a soulmate or a soul mark, so long as they reach the age of twenty-five.  
3\. Despite this, only very few people actually find their soulmate, and even finding them does not guarantee a happily-ever-after._

_Before the advent of the internet, less than 1% of the world’s population (approximately 0.000098%) were able to successfully find their soulmate. With the increased international communication and connection afforded by the World Wide Web, came the creation of social media sites dedicated to helping people find their soulmate, and the incidence of success rose to approximately 1%. Additionally, it became the fashion among soul mark believers to give their children unusual first names in order to increase the chance for them to be correctly identified by their soulmate, which further increased the percentage of success. However, another faction of the population chooses to ignore the mark on their wrist, and the existence of soulmates altogether, claiming that successful relationships are about more than a so-called ‘perfect match’._

_It is within this hot mess that we find the protagonists of our story._

* * *

Newt’s life was going to end in seven days.

He had thought about this incessantly for the past six months at least. He could focus on nothing else. In one week exactly, his life would be over. Because in one week exactly, he would turn twenty-five.

Minho would accuse him of being melodramatic, but Newt was convinced. In seven days, Newt would turn twenty-five, and his soul mark would appear. And then everything would be ruined.

* * *

_**Approximately 20 years ago** _

_A five-year-old boy sits with his back against the wall, staring down at the carpet. It’s patterned to look like a street, with little houses lining the pile surface. In one hand, he holds a little model car, which he half-heartedly scoots back and forth across one of the painted streets._

_“Hey. You’re Newt, right?”_

_The boy looks up to see another boy about his own age looking at him curiously. “Yes,” he answers cautiously. He tries to remember from earlier that day when they had all introduced themselves, names written in large, wax-crayon letters with an uncoordinated hand. This boy’s name had more letters in it than his did, and he thinks it started with a T - Thomas?_

_“I’ve never met anyone named Newt before,” the other boy (Thomas?) says._

_“It’s a nickname,” Newt explains. “It’s short for Newton.”_

_“Like Fig Newtons?”_

_“What are Fig Newtons?”_

_“You don’t know what Fig Newtons are?” The boy’s eyes widen in horrified surprise. “They’re my favorite snack!”_

_Newt shrugs, not sure how to atone for the sin of never having heard of Fig Newtons before._

_“So what does Newton mean?”_

_“I don’t remember,” Newt confesses. Maybe-Thomas grins at him._

_“My parents told me ‘Thomas’ means ‘twin’ or ‘leader’,” he says proudly. So Newt was right, he is Thomas after all._

_“Are you a twin?” Newt asks._

_“No.”_

_“Why did they name you twin if you’re not a twin?”_

_“It can also mean ‘leader’,” Thomas argues. “Anyway, why’d your parents name you Fig Newton?”_

_“It’s **Newt** ,” Newt insists. “They wanted me to have a special name that not a lot of other people have. Not like Thomas, I know a bunch of other people named Thomas.”_

_Thomas considers this for a moment. “Okay,” he shrugs, any lingering resentment apparently forgotten. “Do you want to play Legos with me?”_

_Now it’s Newt’s turn to think. This boy intimidates him, but he wasn’t particularly having fun by himself with his model car. Why not give it a try? “Okay,” he agrees._

_Together they play until lunch, building an increasingly complex and towering structure. Thomas does most of the talking, but Newt doesn’t mind listening quietly to his chatter. By the time the teacher calls for lunch, Newt can barely remember that he ever found Thomas intimidating._

_The next day, they play together again, and the day after that, and the day after that. On Friday, they concoct a plan that will allow them to sit next to each other for lunch. Every day, when their teacher called for lunch, the kids who brought their own lunch got in line first, and then the kids who bought lunch in the cafeteria. When they got to the cafeteria, the sack lunch kids sat at the long table in the order they were in, and the school lunch kids went through the lunch line and then sat at the table, also in the order they were in. The problem was this: Newt is a sack lunch kid, while Thomas is a school lunch kid. So in order to make sure they end up in line next to each other and therefore sit next to each other at the lunch table, they hatch this brilliant scheme:_

_“I’ll go really slow, so I’m in the back of the line of sack lunch kids,” Newt says._

_“And I’ll go really fast, so I get to the line first out of all the school lunch kids,” Thomas continues where Newt left off. They giggle, full to bursting with excitement over their genius._

_“You have to go super slow, okay? Slow like a turtle,” Thomas says, and demonstrates with a sedate waddle. Newt giggles again. He feels buoyed up with joy, like a balloon. If Thomas lets go of his string, he’ll float away. “And I’ll go super fast, like a cheetah.” Thomas demonstrates once more, this time moving as fast as his tiny five-year-old legs will allow. To Newt, it seems impossibly fast._

_Their plan goes off without a hitch, and they have so much fun together at lunch that they get in trouble with the cafeteria monitors for being too loud. It’s the first time Newt’s ever gotten in trouble, and it won’t be the last when Thomas is involved. Newt doesn’t even care, he’s so happy to have a friend. A best friend._

* * *

“Have you talked to Thomas about this?” Winston asked.

Minho rolled his eyes. Newt was surprised Minho’s eyes hadn’t fallen out of their sockets from how often he rolled them. It was a real problem.

“Of course he hasn’t,” Minho said. “Because why talk to your boyfriend about something you’re worried about when you can just stew in silence, overanalyze everything, and self-sabotage?”

“I’m not self-sabotaging,” Newt complained. “I have talked about it with Thomas. Sort of.”

“Sort of? What does that mean?” Minho asked.

“It means, we’ve talked… _around_ it,” Newt hedged.

Minho scoffed. “So I’m guessing that’s Newt-code for you’ve sort of kind of almost mentioned it once and Thomas didn’t read your mind and volunteer the information so you panicked and gave up?”

“No,” Newt said hotly. “We’ve… dropped hints at each other. Both of us.”

In truth, Newt was jealous of Minho. Minho’s soul mark had appeared about two months ago, an unusual name that almost didn’t even sound like a name but rather a type of ship, and Minho seemed, on the surface at least, like he couldn’t care less. Newt knew his friend sometimes played these things close to the chest, but after the mark had appeared, Minho had carried on dating casually just as he had before, apparently without the least attempt to find his strangely-named soulmate. Newt envied his ability to be so cavalier about the whole soulmate phenomenon.

“What has Thomas actually said?” Minho asked.

Newt picked at a thin spot in his jeans that would probably become a hole soon. Faster, if he kept picking at it. “He says he doesn’t care about the marks,” he mumbled, addressing his lap. “He wants to stay with me.”

“Ha! See?” Minho crowed.

“That’s what he says now. But what if he changes his mind?” Newt countered. “What if, five or ten more years down the line, he decides he made a mistake, and he wants to be with his real soulmate?”

“Statistically, he probably won’t be able to find his soulmate, even if he does change his mind,” Alby said, as if that were supposed to be comforting.

“Great,” Newt grumbled. “So if I’m lucky, maybe he’ll settle for me, even though he’d rather be with someone else?”

The others were silent.

“And what if…” Newt squeezed his eyes shut, forced himself to say those dreaded, hateful words. “What if it’s Teresa?”

The silence became deafening.

“Look,” Minho said at last, “I know this is a sore spot for you, but if he wanted to date Teresa, he’d be dating Teresa. He’s dating _you_.”

“Yeah, and you guys have been together forever,” Winston chimed in.

“That’s no guarantee he won’t change his mind later, though,” Newt insisted.

“Yeah, but Newt, you never get that,” Alby said. “I’ve heard about people who found their soulmate, and then ditched them a few years later because they wanted someone younger, or hotter, or smarter, or whatever stupid reason. Life doesn’t come with guarantees, that’s not how it works. Sometimes you just have to trust.”

* * *

_**Approximately 19 years ago** _

_Newt clutches his rolled-up sleeping bag to his stomach. He’s been so excited for this sleepover that he’s practically been running up the walls for the past week, but now that he’s standing on the threshold to Thomas’ house he suddenly feels shy._

_He rings the doorbell, and from within the house he hears the thundering footsteps of Thomas running down the stairs to answer the door. Seconds later the door swings open to reveal Thomas, grinning from ear to ear. He rocks back onto his heels, then forward onto his toes and even bounces a little in his excitement._

_“Come on! I’ll show you where to put your stuff!” Thomas turns to run without looking back, assuming Newt is right behind him, because of course Newt is right behind him. As soon as he saw Thomas, the bashfulness disappeared, and now he can’t wait to spend the whole night playing games with Thomas, watching movies, and staying up way too late._

_They dump Newt’s overnight bag and sleeping bag in the living room where Thomas’ sleeping bag is already set out, and then Thomas leads Newt upstairs to show him his room. In the hallway, they pass a wall filled with framed photos. Newt recognizes Thomas and his mother in some, but the other family members are a mystery to him._

_Thomas notices him looking and starts pointing various people out. “That’s my Grandpa and Grandma, and that’s my Granny, and Uncle Rick and Aunt Penny with my baby cousin Elaine, and this one is my Aunt Dawn and Uncle Larry and cousins Trevor and Ian, and let me see… oh this one over here is my dad as a baby, and the one next to it is me as a baby, it’s funny because we look exactly the same.”_

_“I’ve never met your dad,” Newt says. He’s met Thomas’ mother multiple times, but never his father._

_“Oh yeah, he doesn’t live here anymore,” Thomas says, turning to continue on towards his room at the end of the hallway._

_“Why not?” Newt asks. He follows Thomas through the door and they both flop down onto Thomas’ bed._

_“Him and my mom aren’t married anymore. He lives in Michigan with Uncle Doug. I go see them on holidays sometimes.”_

_“Is Uncle Doug his brother?”_

_“No, mom said Uncle Doug is his special friend, like how when a boy and a girl get married, but sometimes two boys get married or two girls get married.”_

_“Two boys can get married to each other?” Newt asks in whispered awe. He’s never heard of such a thing before._

_“Uh-huh.” Thomas nods matter-of-factly. Newt can tell he’s enjoying being the source of authority for this unknown information._

_Newt scrunches his face up, thinking. “How come more boys don’t marry boys? All the grown-up boys I know are married to girls.”_

_Thomas shrugs, making an I-don’t-know sound in the back of his throat._

_“Do you think you’ll marry a boy or a girl when you grow up?” Newt asks._

_Thomas thinks for a long time before answering. “I dunno,” he says finally. “I like girls and boys. I can’t decide which one I like more. What about you?”_

_“I don’t know,” Newt also answers, but this is a lie._

* * *

“Your birthday’s in five days, Newt, you’re gonna have to figure out what you want to do soon,” Sonya said.

“That’s not really the problem here,” Newt argued.

“Then what’s the problem exactly?”

“Well, I know what _I_ want to do, I just don’t know what _he_ wants.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“I want to be with him,” Newt answered, his voice cracking.

“But didn’t you say that he said he wants to be with you, no matter what the marks say?” she asked.

“Yes,” Newt admitted.

Sonya tilted her head sardonically. “I’m not seeing the problem here, if I’m honest.”

Newt heaved a sigh. He made it last a little longer than necessary, for comedic effect. Breaking the tension with a little humor was the only way he could get through this conversation. “The _problem_ ,” he ground the word out through gritted teeth, “is I’m worried that isn’t actually what he wants. Or maybe that’s what he thinks he wants now, but he’ll change his mind.”

“Ah,” Sonya said delicately. “So you’re afraid of ending up like mom.”

“It’s not just about that,” Newt insisted. “This is for him, too. Don’t I have to do what I think is best for him, if I really love him? You know, if you love them, let them go, and all that?”

“Newt, no offence, but that might be the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said.”

“No it’s not,” Newt argued heatedly. “It’s not even my thing, lots of people have said that. It’s a whole phrase.”

“I’m not denying the existence of the phrase, I just think you’re being dumb and that phrase doesn’t apply here.”

“I just mean… maybe Thomas would be better off with his actual soulmate. I don’t want to get in the way of that. I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t have something that later on he might decide he wants. Something he can’t be happy without.”

“Why do you think you get to decide what’s best for Thomas? Shouldn’t he get to decide that for himself?” Sonya asked.

“I…” Newt tried to think of something to say, and came up short. It was a pretty good point, actually. Damn. He hated when his sister was right.

“Lots of people are perfectly happy without their soulmate,” Sonya continued. “Do you think that maybe you’re using this as an excuse to protect yourself because you’re afraid of getting hurt?”

“Don’t fucking psychoanalyze me.”

* * *

_**Approximately 14 years ago** _

_On the landing above the stairs, hidden in the shadows and peering out through the balusters, is an eleven-year-old boy and his nine-year-old sister. While their parents think they’re asleep, they listen to the adults argue late into the night. The boy and his sister hold hands, for once united against a common enemy, a temporary truce called in light of this unprecedented emergency._

_In the coming years, they won’t remember the exact words said, but they remember quite vividly the gist: their lives are about to change forever. In a few days, their father will pack a suitcase and move out, never to return. They will still see him, of course, on holidays and every other weekend, but their mother never allows him back into the house. When he drops them off he has to sit in the car on the curb outside, like there’s a force field repelling him from the house which used to be his home._

_The weekend after the fight, their mother packs them off to friends’ houses because she needs some ‘alone time’. Newt sits in the dark with Thomas, the blue light of the television that he isn’t really watching flickering across his face. He knows Thomas can tell something is wrong, but he hasn’t pried. That’s one of the (many) things Newt loves about Thomas; he never pushes, he just waits for Newt to be ready to tell him whatever’s on his mind. Newt’s been withdrawn and somber all week. The need to tell someone, to talk about what’s happening, has been building, and he knows he’ll burst soon._

_“How old were you when your parents divorced?” The question comes abruptly, when even Newt isn’t expecting it._

_“Um,” Thomas says, clearly startled. “I think around four or five?”_

_“Why did it happen?”_

_“Well, they got married and had me pretty young, before the soul marks appeared, so when they did, they realized they weren’t meant to be together. I don’t really remember it that much, but I think they’re both much happier now. My dad found Doug, and my mom found Johnny, and me and Chuck get to be brothers now.”_

_“So it was all for the best?”_

_“Yeah, I think so.”_

_“What if…” Newt has to stop to swallow a painful lump rising in his throat. “What if one person wants to leave but the other doesn’t?”_

_Thomas has no answer, but he puts his arm around Newt and tugs him into a one-armed hug. Newt feels tears pricking at his eyes, and he tries to hold them back, but a few leak out and trickle down the side of his face. He wipes them away shamefully; boys aren’t supposed to cry. If anyone besides Thomas saw this, he would be dead meat at school. Luckily he knows Thomas won’t tell anyone._

_Thomas holds him even closer, and Newt wraps his arms around Thomas in turn, allows himself to take comfort from the other boy._

* * *

“Are you going to do anything special on the actual day? Twenty-five is a big one, you know, you should mark the occasion!”

“I don’t know, mom,” Newt said, avoiding her eye by taking a well-timed sip from his water glass. “I’ll probably just spend it with Thomas.”

“How do you know you’ll still be with Thomas by then?”

“ _Mom!_ ” Sonya hissed sharply.

“What?” their mother asked innocently. “I’m just asking.” She looked back to Newt expectantly.

Newt shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He still couldn’t look his mother in the eye. “I don’t think we’re going to make any decisions right away. We’ll just… wait and see.”

“I think you were smart to wait for the soul mark before doing anything permanent,” their mother continued. Sonya shot Newt a sympathetic look across the table. He grimaced back at her. “That way you won’t be married for fifteen years and then one day he gets it into his head that his soulmate must be some twenty-year-old college student named Beatrice and leave you with nothing but - ”

“Mom, stop, you’re totally projecting and being a drag,” Sonya cut in, thankfully interrupting whatever tirade their mother had been working up to delivering. “Newt and Thomas are nothing like you and dad.”

“Well, just make sure you don’t get attached to anyone whose name isn’t on your wrist.”

Newt hummed noncommittally. He didn’t mention that it was far too late for that advice; Thomas had long ago become indispensable.

* * *

_**Twelve years ago** _

_Newt is in love with his best friend._

_Go ahead, laugh; it’s pretty funny, at least in a my-life-is-a-cosmic-joke kind of way. Could you be any more of a gay cliché, Newt? Maybe you should join the musical theater club, or take up ballet. You should also get really into fashion and sort of sashay your hips a little when you walk._

_Just kidding! The other boys at school would kill you!_

_As it is, they still might get their chance. Newt is so head-over-heels, ass-over-teakettle in love with Thomas that he sometimes feels like it’s written on his face in permanent marker. He isn’t sure how much longer he can keep hiding it; it’s practically bursting out of him like flatulence after a bean burrito._

_The fall dance is only a few weeks away, and Newt may or may not be harboring a deeply embarrassing fantasy involving Thomas and a grand declaration of love and perhaps a white tuxedo? He hasn’t settled on a color yet. He does look very good in midnight blue._

_Unfortunately, this is the real world, and thirteen-year-old gay boys in suburban Midwestern America don’t get to live out their wildest Taylor Swift-fueled fantasies of falling in reciprocated love with their best friends. Haven’t you noticed that the gay characters in the movies always get AIDS and/or die a painful death, and certainly never get to live happily ever after with their true love? That’s because you don’t deserve a happy ending. You’re disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself._

_And now, ladies and gentlemen, may I present, in brightest technicolor and surround sound, our feature presentation: the complete and utter shattering of the hopes and dreams of one Newton Watts, happening live for your entertainment in mere seconds! Watch as Newt, poor unsuspecting fool, stumbles upon a scene ripped directly from his nightmares, in which his best friend and the unwitting object of his affection, Thomas Williams, is engaged in a consensual liplock with one Teresa McPherson, generally agreed to be the most popular and most desirable girl in the eighth grade._

_Newt escapes unseen, and runs to the nearest bathroom. He is so distraught he doesn’t notice the lack of urinals or the fact that the stalls and mirrors are flipped in the mirror image of where they usually are. He locks himself in the stall at the farthest end of the very luckily unoccupied bathroom, and collapses onto the toilet. Should he cry? His face can’t make up its mind. His nose is on the ball, it has started running in preparation for a good tears-and-snot ugly cry; likewise, his skin has gone red and blotchy, which he knows because he caught a glimpse in the mirror before slamming the stall door shut. (Of course Thomas would never want you, are you crazy? Look at yourself. Look at yourself! You’re repulsive. No one would ever want this mess.) His eyes, on the other hand, cannot seem to get with the program, and just to add insult to injury, remain stubbornly dry. He can’t even have a proper cry about it! (What a piece of shit. Can’t even cry right! Stupid piece of shit.)_

_After a while, he gives up trying to cry and wipes his nose with a piece of toilet paper. He then actually looks at his surroundings for the first time and realizes that he is in fact in the girls’ bathroom. His very recent streak of good luck has held, and it is as yet still unoccupied by anyone other than himself. He notices that the stall walls are thoroughly decorated with graffiti, ranging from sappy and sentimental to Mean Girls-esque._

_He’s deeply engrossed in a tragic ballad of heartbreak scratched onto the plastic laminate in three parts when an idea occurs to him; he fishes in his bag for a pen, uncaps it, holds it up to the wall, then pauses, considering. What should he write? What small bit of wisdom to immortalize his presence in this forbidden sanctum? ‘Newt was here’? No, that’s stupid. Plus damning, if a teacher saw it._

_‘Newt loves Thomas’? Ha ha ha. Very funny. You’re a riot. Have you considered doing standup?_

_Newt thinks a little more, chewing absent-mindedly on the end of the pen. His feelings for Thomas are overwhelming, a tidal wave threatening in equal parts to drown him or dash him to death upon the rocks. If he could just let even a tiny part of it out, like a pressure relief valve, it might stop him from exploding. If he only had some tiny, invisible way to say **yes, I was here, I existed and I loved my best friend Thomas**._

_Carefully, he scratches two letters, separated by a symbol, onto the plastic laminate in the thin line of the pen._

_N + T_

_There. Now it could be anyone; Nancy and Tim, or Nick and Thea, or Nina and Travis. Thoroughly heterosexual-passing. But he’ll know. He’ll know it’s here, and he’ll know what it means: that he was alive, and had feelings so tumultuous, so beautiful, so sublime, he couldn’t help but record them, albeit anonymously._

_Newt does not end up going to the fall dance, but surprisingly, neither does Thomas. Newt wonders why he isn’t going with Teresa, but he doesn’t want to ask because he would have to admit he saw them kissing, and there is a long list of things Newt would rather do than admit out loud to Thomas that he saw him and Teresa kissing, starting with ‘bake brownies’ and ending with ‘consume hemlock’._

_Instead, Thomas suggests they stay in and have a movie night. They rent the new Batman movie and make cookies from scratch. Miraculously, about half of the cookie dough actually makes it into the oven, while the rest is consumed raw. They are teenage boys! They live on the wild side. They laugh in the face of E. coli and Salmonella! (Batman was followed up with an old classic, The Lion King. Yes, they sang along to all the songs.)_

_Even after they turn out the lights, they stay up talking for hours about everything and nothing. Newt still doesn’t ask about Teresa, but the question burns on his tongue. He wonders if Thomas will start dating her. He wonders if they’re dating already, secretly. Would Thomas have told him if he were? Newt wants to believe he would, but he’s not sure._

* * *

It was unseasonably cold, and Newt’s bad leg ached. He could feel the cold in the joints of his ankle and knee, and along the old fracture line.

Newt and Thomas walked in companionable silence, holding hands. After a long time in which Newt got lost in his thoughts, Thomas sighed and spoke.

“Are we ever going to talk about this, or are we just going to ignore it forever?”

It was no use pretending he didn’t know what Thomas was talking about. “Haven’t we already talked about it?” Newt said.

“Not really. I mean, I know I’ve told you what I think, but you’ve never said what you think.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No, you haven’t, not really. On your birthday, when the soul mark appears, what are you going to do if it isn’t my name?”

“I… I haven’t decided yet.”

“Your birthday’s only three days away, when exactly do you think you’ll have decided?”

“I don’t see why I need to be in a hurry to decide.”

“Because the uncertainty is killing me, and it’s obviously straining our relationship! We can’t even talk about your birthday without fighting.”

Neither of them mentioned that there might not be a relationship to strain in three more days.

“I know I’m asking a lot, Tommy, and believe me I don’t take for granted how patient and understanding you’ve been. But I just need a little more time to make sure I’m completely certain.”

“Completely certain about what?”

“Doesn’t it make a difference to you, knowing that there could be someone out there that you’re meant to be with, and you’re not with them?”

“No, because the whole thing is bullshit. The only one I’m meant to be with is you.”

“What about Teresa?” Newt asked.

“What about her?” Thomas replied stiffly.

“Her soul mark - ”

“Please, Newt, not this again,” Thomas pleaded. “I told you, I don’t give a fuck what her mark says or what any of them say, I’m not going to suddenly start dating her. I’m in love with _you_.”

“You like her.”

“As a friend!”

“You kissed her,” Newt reminded him.

“Like a million years ago!” Thomas protested. “I had a silly crush when I was thirteen, that doesn’t mean she’s my soulmate! I was just - trying it on, you know how sometimes you try on different versions of yourself to see how they feel, I was trying it on and she didn’t fit - but you did, you and me are so right, you have to see that! We don’t need some stupid mark on our wrists to tell us what we know in our hearts, we’re supposed to be together!”

“You don’t _know_ that,” Newt said. “Not for sure, not until we see what it says - ”

“Why do you put so much stock in some stupid magic mark that we don’t even really understand? Why are you so sure that the mark is the truth? Why is that more valid than our own feelings? We know we love each other, can’t that be enough?”

Newt desperately wished that it could be enough, that he could simply trust Thomas’ and his own feelings, but still there was that small part of him that craved absolute certainty, that couldn’t be satisfied until he knew what the soul marks said. Why couldn’t their love be enough? It should be enough, shouldn’t it? What was wrong with him?

“Please, let’s not argue,” Newt begged. “We still have a few more days, let’s just - try to enjoy ourselves without worrying about it.”

Thomas agreed reluctantly, and they walked on, but Newt could still feel the dark cloud hanging over them.

* * *

_**Six months ago** _

_There is a knock at the door. Newt answers it to see Teresa, shifting her weight from foot to foot and fidgeting with her hands._

_“Hey, Teresa!” he says, greeting her warmly despite the flutter of unease he feels at how nervous she clearly is. Is she here to deliver bad news? “It’s been a while, how have you been?”_

_“Is Thomas here?” she asks. Just like that, with no preamble, no greeting, nothing._

_“Um. Yeah, he’s around. Do you want to come in?”_

_Teresa follows him inside and waits by the door while Newt goes to fetch Thomas from his room. Thomas greets her, gives her a friendly hug, and then:_

_“Thomas, I need to speak to you.” Her eyes dart over to Newt for a split second and then back to Thomas. “Alone.”_

_Thomas frowns. “Anything you need to say to me, you can say to Newt.” Evidently, he’s getting the same weird vibes from her that Newt is._

_She hesitates. “It’s private,” she says. “It’s only about you.”_

_“I’ll just tell him as soon as you leave anyway,” Thomas tells her._

_Teresa sighs, and relents. “You know it was my birthday a few days ago. Well, I wanted to show you this.” She holds up her wrist. Newt can see there’s something written on it, but he’s too far away to make out what it says. Both he and Thomas lean forward, trying to read it, but Thomas understands first._

_“You can’t be serious.”_

_“I didn’t ask for it to say this, Tom, it’s not like -”_

_“ **Don’t** call me that,” Thomas interrupts her. “Stop trying to legitimize it, we both know that’s not me. It must be some other Tom, I’m sure there are at least a million Toms in the world.”_

_Finally, Newt understands. The name written on Teresa’s wrist is Tom, and she believes it’s referring to Thomas._

_“We don’t both know that,” Teresa argues. “It could very well be you. I agree that it’s statistically unlikely, but that doesn’t mean - ”_

_Thomas shakes his head emphatically. “It’s not me. I know it’s not.”_

_“Tom, please - ”_

_“I told you not to fucking call me that,” Thomas says, a hard edge creeping into his voice. “Do you have anything else to say, or did you just come here to try and blow up my life?”_

_Teresa is silent, but she looks at Thomas with heartbreak in her eyes._

_Thomas strides over to the door and holds it open, gesturing for her to move through the doorway. “Bye,” he says pointedly._

_Teresa looks like she wants to say something else, but decides not to. She walks over to the doorway, but before she leaves she stops and turns to Newt, making eye contact with him for the first time since she arrived._

_“Look, Newt, I know you’ll probably hate me for this, and I’m sorry. I almost didn’t come here today. But I just knew I would regret it if I didn’t at least try, you know? Do you get where I’m coming from?”_

_Newt chews on the inside of his lip fretfully. He does understand her, at least a little. And surprisingly, he doesn’t hate her. He feels that he should, but he just can’t. He looks down and nods. Teresa seems satisfied with that as an answer and finally leaves._

_Thomas is fuming. “Please don’t tell me you actually believe that she’s my soulmate,” he says._

_Newt hesitates. “Well - ”_

_“Newt!”_

_“It just, it makes sense, is all! You two have always gotten along well, and she used to call you Tom.”_

_“She hasn’t called me that in a long time. And I just know. I would feel it, wouldn’t I, if she were my soulmate? But I know that she’s not.” Thomas has always been much better than Newt at relying on gut feelings._

_“It wouldn’t hurt to wait and see what yours says, would it?” Newt asks tentatively._

_Thomas shakes his head. “I don’t need to wait and see. I already know.”_

_“But you can’t know for sure until we see the marks,” Newt points out._

_“What’s with you?” Thomas says, voice rising, emotions running high. “Do you **want** me to be with Teresa?”_

_“I don’t know!” Newt shouts. His stomach twists. “Maybe! If she’s the person you’re supposed to be with, if that’s the only way you can be truly happy!”_

_“What are you talking about? How can you even say that?” Thomas looks hurt, and Newt feels like he’s plunging a dagger into his heart. He hates himself for it, but he pushes on._

_“I mean, look at me, I’m kind of a mess!” Newt says. The more distressed he gets, the higher and thinner his voice goes. Sometimes it cracks altogether. “What if I do something crazy, and I end up ruining your life, and then you resent me? What if you have regrets later on, what if you end up wishing you’d gone with Teresa?”_

_Thomas puts a comforting hand on Newt’s shoulder. His eyes are filled with sympathy. “What do you mean, do something crazy? You’re not crazy, Newt. How would you ruin my life?”_

_Newt looks down. Being this vulnerable is physically painful; tears sting in his eyes and a lump rises in his throat. “I mean - I’ve already done crazy stuff in the past, and - you know that I’m - that I need a lot of help sometimes - I just don’t want to drag you down with me, I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”_

_Thomas, the sympathetic crier that he is, also has tears in his eyes by now. He folds Newt into a hug, reassures him that he would never regret being with him, but Newt still can’t relax. The idea is planted now, and it takes root quickly and firmly._

_As much as Thomas tries to tell him it isn’t true, Newt worries that he could very well ruin Thomas’ life along with his own if he’s not careful. Sometimes he feels like he has a bomb inside his head, and one day it’s going to go off and destroy not only him but everyone close to him. And in that case, isn’t it selfish of him to want to stay with Thomas, if Newt would be bad for him and Thomas would be better off with someone else? If he truly loves Thomas, shouldn’t he want the best life possible for him, even if that means pushing him into the waiting arms of Teresa?_

* * *

Newt lay awake, tossing and turning. Last he had checked, the clock read three in the morning, and he still felt wide awake.

He felt awful about what he was doing to Thomas. How many people would be this patient while he dithered and hesitated, refusing to make up his mind? How many people would wait around this long when they knew their partner was contemplating ending the relationship?

He wished he could be as certain as Thomas. It would be so much more romantic if he could declare to the world that he didn’t care what the name on his wrist said, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Thomas.

It was those stupid soul marks that ruined everything. Who would want to know that they had one perfect soulmate out there, but never know if they would meet? While he still didn’t know what name would appear on his wrist, he could entertain the hope that Thomas was his soulmate. Schrödinger’s soulmate. Once a name appeared that wasn’t Thomas, he would have to decide what to do, a decision between giving up on the idea of a perfect soulmate, or walking away from Thomas. Of course, there was always the tiny, infinitesimal chance that Thomas actually was his soulmate. The problem was, statistics were decidedly not on his side.

He thought it should have been an easy choice. Thomas certainly thought it was. Most of his friends seemed confused as to what Newt’s dilemma was. But it wasn’t easy. Thomas was the only one he had ever wanted. They had been together for nearly a decade, and been best friends for even longer. There was no one else Newt could imagine spending his life with. But Newt had witnessed first-hand how lives could be derailed when someone decided to commit to someone they knew wasn’t their soulmate and then changed their mind later.

The thing he found it hardest to look past was Teresa’s soul mark. Of course, they wouldn’t know for sure until Thomas’ mark appeared, but to Newt it seemed like an awfully big coincidence. And Thomas and Teresa had an undeniable capacity to be attracted to each other; it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that they were soulmates. Teresa certainly seemed to think it was a legitimate possibility. If she were his real soulmate, would Thomas eventually decide to leave Newt for her?

Newt wondered if he would have done things differently, had he known it would cause this much turmoil down the road. He hadn’t even considered soulmates at the time; twenty-five had seemed so far away at sixteen, but now it was right around the corner. Still, he didn’t think he would change a thing. He treasured his time with Thomas too much to give it up, even if it didn’t end up lasting their whole lifetime.

* * *

_**Nine years ago** _

_“Do you want to talk about it?” asks Thomas. It’s no surprise that he’s already managed to track Newt to his favorite hiding spot, in the park under the big tree whose branches reach all the way to the ground so when you’re sitting by the trunk you’re almost completely hidden from view._

_“No,” Newt answers shortly, but that’s not entirely true. He wants Thomas to tell him everything’s going to be okay, that it’s not as bad as it seems and most people will have forgotten by Monday. He wants to think about the actual inciting incident as little as possible._

_“Those guys are assholes, no one cares what they say anyway,” Thomas tries again, holding up attempts to draw Newt into conversation like offerings made on the altar of friendship. “And Mr. Janson’s a dick, he should’ve told them to shut up and sent them to the principal’s office.”_

_Newt offers nothing in response. He had been crying before Thomas found him, and is doing his best to hide the evidence, but the urge to sniff is nearly overpowering. He resists the sniffle, as if doing so will let him cling to his last scrap of dignity. He tries to surreptitiously wipe his nose on his sleeve._

_“You know, it’s okay, if you are,” Thomas continues. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He glances sideways at Newt as he sits next to him, with his back against the trunk. Newt gets the sense Thomas is avoiding looking directly at him in order to offer some semblance of privacy and plausible deniability. Newt feels both grateful and a tad patronized. No one likes to be pitied, even if he is being rather pitiful._

_“I mean, you’ve heard me talk about my dad,” Thomas says. “There are always some people who are weird about it, but he’s so much happier being who he is and loving who he really loves. And yeah, there are some people at school who are assholes and might try to be difficult, but all the people who matter won’t care.”_

_Well, now’s as good a time as any, Newt thinks. He might as well get it over with._

_“Tommy?” Newt takes a deep, shaky breath and exhales slowly through his mouth, looking down at his lap. “I’m gay.”_

_Before he gets the courage to look up, Newt feels Thomas’ arms embrace him. It’s a real, proper hug; Thomas holds him tight and buries his face in Newt’s neck. Newt hugs him back gratefully, a powerful feeling of relief washing over him. They tip off balance because of the contortion Thomas has to perform to hug Newt while sitting side to side, and almost go sprawling, but Thomas holds them both up. Newt finds himself laughing, expelling all the anxiety and distress in a burst of ecstatic sound. His chest feels lighter with each exhaled syllable._

_“I’m really glad you told me,” Thomas says after they pull apart._

_Newt chuckles weakly and wipes his eyes again. “Yeah, I’m so brave to have told the one person I could be sure would take it well.”_

_“Hey. No.” Thomas puts his hands on either side of Newt’s shoulders and looks him dead in the eye. “I mean it. I’m proud of you, that took guts.”_

_Newt shrugs and looks away, feeling bashful with the full force of Thomas’ attention turned on him._

_“And if anyone tries to say or do anything mean to you, I **will** beat them up,” Thomas promises. He’s smiling, but he looks solemn enough that Newt knows he means it._

_“Thanks,” Newt says. His face shifts into the barest hint of a smile._

_Thomas still has his hands on Newt’s shoulders, and with one hand he gives a gentle squeeze. His eyes are boring into Newt’s soul, and somehow this feels different from all the other times they’ve looked at each other. There’s an edge of significance, of meaning, that feels new._

_Before he can think about what he’s doing, Newt leans forward and presses his lips against Thomas’._

_Their mouths crash together. There’s an excruciating pause. Thomas makes a noise of surprised confusion and leans back. Newt prays for the earth to open up and swallow him whole._

_“Oh god. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Newt is babbling and backpedaling, trying desperately to extricate himself from this situation as quickly as possible. “I’m stupid. This was stupid. I’m so sorry.” His face is burning. He would not be at all surprised if he were to spontaneously combust on the spot. This is definitely, without question, the worst day of his life. “Oh I forgot to tell you, I’m moving to Australia. Tomorrow. Forever. So this is probably the last time I’ll see you. Goodbye forever!”_

_Without giving Thomas a chance to respond, Newt turns around and hightails it out of there as fast as he can without actively running away. He’s only gone a few steps when Thomas catches up, presumably having recovered from his shock._

_“Newt, wait!”_

_Newt does not wait. He’s suffered far too much humiliation today to be interested in sitting through the kind, gentle rejection that Thomas is no doubt planning to deliver. “Bye!” He says again instead, continuing forward without looking back._

_“Newt, come on, just hold up a second!”_

_Reluctantly, Newt stops and turns around. He keeps his gaze fixed firmly on his shoes._

_“Before you move to Australia,” Thomas says, amusement evident in his voice, “maybe you should give me more than half a second to react.”_

_Newt’s face grows, if possible, even warmer. He craves the sweet mercy of death._

_Then both of Thomas’ hands close around Newt’s own, and Thomas gives his arms a playful tug, pulling him a step closer. One hand lets go, and a second later Newt feels it under his chin, delicately lifting his gaze to Thomas’ face (how did Thomas get so suave? What movies has he been watching?) and then Thomas is kissing him. It’s at least 83% less awkward than the first kiss; for one thing, Thomas is kissing back, and his hand slides to the back of Newt’s head, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck (what is he, a fucking professional? Where did he learn this?), and this time when he leans back his eyes are soft and fond, and his thumb caresses Newt’s cheek, and he says, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”_

_Newt sighs the most contented sigh of his life. “Me too.” He can hardly believe this is happening. He had no idea it was possible to be this happy. Maybe dreams do come true?_

* * *

Newt walked along the dirt path, looking at his surroundings without really seeing them. He had walked this path many times before; he had practically memorized the configuration of trees, the soft babbling of a nearby creek. This was where he always went when he had something on his mind.

In just a short while, the soul mark would no longer be a hypothetical question. It would be real, etched into his skin, and he would have to deal with the consequences. It would appear within the hour.

Newt knew what he wanted. He had known all along, really. He wanted Thomas. All of the dragging his feet and refusing to make a concrete decision was based in fear, as practically everyone in his life had pointed out to him. But he had good reason to be afraid: yes, he and Thomas loved each other, but Newt could think of at least half a dozen stories from people he knew that proved that just loving each other wasn’t always enough to make it last. What if that happened to them, too? What if their love wasn’t enough?

Alby’s words of a few days ago came back to him: _Sometimes you just have to trust._ Maybe he would just have to trust that Thomas wasn’t like his father, or those other people he had heard about. He had to trust that Thomas loved him enough, that their love could be enough. Their love had already survived this long. After all, they were both different people than they were when they had met. They had gone through many different versions of themselves, growing and changing, but one thing had remained constant: they loved each other. They would always love each other.

It hit Newt all at once: even if he did learn of the existence of some hypothetical person who was supposed to be his soulmate, it didn’t matter. He chose Thomas, and Thomas chose him. That made them soulmates.

Immediately, he knew he wanted nothing more than to see Thomas. Newt checked his watch. He didn’t have much time, but he should make it if he hurried. He had to see Thomas, right now.

Newt ran all the way home, his feet pounding the pavement, breath searing in his lungs. His bad leg protested, but Newt ignored it. It had suddenly become vitally important that Newt got home before the soul mark appeared. He had to tell Thomas what he had decided while the soul mark was still an open question, or Thomas might think that Newt was settling, when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Or, if by some miracle Newt’s soulmate was actually Thomas, then Thomas might always have that little voice lurking in the back of his mind telling him that Newt would have left him if a different name had appeared on his wrist. But Newt needed Thomas to know that he was telling fate to go fuck itself, that he and Thomas would make their own destiny.

When he came bursting through the door, out of breath, Thomas looked startled. “Is it the mark? Did it show up?” he asked.

Newt shook his head, leaned over and tried to catch his breath. “Not yet,” he panted. “I wanted - to tell you before - just in case - if it is you - so you won’t think - I would have ditched you.”

“I did not understand a single word of that,” Thomas said, laughing nervously.

Newt took several deep breaths and tried again. “I know - what I want,” he wheezed.

“You’ve decided?” Thomas asked. He sounded both eager and apprehensive.

Newt nodded. “I decided - I don’t care what the mark says. I want to be with you.”

A smile split Thomas’ face. “‘Til death do us part?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Sure. ‘Til death do us part, or whatever.”

“Or whatever? So romantic.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Newt made him.

They kissed until Newt felt the small, sharp pain on his left wrist that signalled the arrival of the soul mark. It was time.

Covering the mark with his other hand, Newt looked Thomas in the eye. “No matter what this says, it won’t change us. It won’t change the way we feel about each other.”

Thomas nodded solemnly, and then Newt took his hand off and they read the mark together. In small, elegant letters, it read:

_Tommy_

Thomas got it first and began laughing wildly, the combination of surprise and relief bubbling out of him, while Newt stood gaping at his own wrist, still in shock.

“It’s…” The word slipped out of Newt’s mouth, detached from the rest of its sentence. Newt couldn’t even think what the rest of the sentence might be, his mind was so frozen with disbelief.

“Me!” Thomas cried joyfully, beaming at Newt. He clasped both of Newt’s hands in his. “It’s me. It has to be.”

“We’re…”

“Soulmates,” Thomas confirmed, still smiling. He looked so happy it was like sunlight was shining out of his face.

“We’re _soulmates_ ,” Newt whispered reverentially. Still holding Thomas’ hand, he flipped his wrist upward to stare at those five letters again. There it was, even now, written in his skin.

Newt and Thomas celebrated this news by making out for a long, long time. Some undetermined amount of time later, Thomas asked, “So why was it so important that you ran all the way home to tell me?”

“I wanted to tell you before the mark showed up, because…” Now that he thought about it, Newt couldn’t remember why it had felt so important to reach Thomas before the mark appeared. The whole thing seemed sort of silly now.

“You really thought I would care that much whether you told me before or after?” Thomas was smiling that teasing smile that Newt knew meant he was making fun of him.

“It was supposed to be, like, a grand gesture or something. You know, to make up for the fact that I didn’t decide earlier.”

“You’re such an idiot sometimes,” Thomas told him, laughing as he slid his arms around Newt’s waist.

“I’m _your_ idiot,” Newt reminded him, smiling into the kiss that Thomas pressed against his mouth.

“Yes, you are,” Thomas said. He let out a theatrical sigh. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

“I can think of one thing,” Newt said, raising an eyebrow.

* * *

_**Four months later** _

Newt and Thomas sat together on the couch, keeping an eye on the clock as it counted down to the time that Thomas was born. Thomas chatted gaily, apparently without a care in the world, and Newt tried to imitate him even though a nest of snakes had taken up residence in his stomach, twisting and writhing inside him. He shouldn’t be nervous, should he? They already knew the outcome, didn’t they? But a small voice whispered in his mind that they had made a mistake, and the _Tommy_ written on Newt’s wrist wasn’t actually Thomas. They wouldn’t know for sure until a corresponding _Newt_ was written on Thomas’ wrist.

At last, Thomas gave a small hiss of pain and clasped his wrist; in a moment, it was done. Thomas looked at Newt and flashed him a reassuring smile before uncovering his wrist.

“It says ‘Harry’,” he read, brow wrinkled in confusion.

Newt’s heart stopped.

“Wow, do you think my soulmate is Harry Styles? I should call him up, this is so exciting!”

Newt’s heart started again, and to cover his wheeze of relief he punched Thomas in the shoulder. “Asshole! Don’t do that to me!”

Thomas cackled, showing Newt his wrist, where of course there was written in small, elegant script the name _Newt_. “Admit it, you were still nervous, weren’t you?”

“I don’t have to admit anything,” Newt told him haughtily, but he wrapped his arm around Thomas’ shoulders and pulled him close, kissing him soundly. “Just for the record though, if you did leave me for Harry Styles, I wouldn’t even be mad.”

“Well, duh. He’s _Harry Styles_.”

Newt pushed Thomas down onto the couch and followed after him, whereupon he let Thomas know exactly what he thought of the dirty little trick he had played. Later, they would eat birthday cake and celebrate with their friends, but for now, Newt had Thomas all to himself.

_...and they lived happily ever after._


End file.
